Disclaimer: RR owns PJO not me. I only own my creative plot bunnies and OC's that plague me so much.
Author's Note: Check out the pic of Torrey's doctor on my page. Thank you to Mahlia my beta. :)
Warning: There is some language used in this chapter!
*Camera flashes*
I was walking the red carpet to 'The King of Sparta'. My dad looked so excited to have his first feature film on the big screen. I saw a few scenes and could tell that my dad played an awesome villain.
"Steve, over here! I'm Nancy Charlotte with E! News, could you tell me what filming this movie meant to you?"
I walked on. A reporter for the LA Times beckoned me over to talk about the title card for my next match. Suddenly, my dad's girlfriend jumped in front of me and started answering questions for me.
"Oh hells no, bitch!" I yelled.
Before I could try to stop myself, I threw a punch straight at her face.
Did I just punch one of my dad's girlfriends? When the hell did this happen?
*Camera flashes*
I opened my eyes shocked. Did I really punch her? What the hell is wrong with me? I should remember punching another person at a movie premiere of all places.
"Did you like the little snippet I gave to you, sweet face?" A sultry voice asked.
I looked up and saw me. Well, a version of myself with black hair- I'm a brunette. My "twin" had a smirk on her face and hovered over me. This must be Victoria. I don't remember her looking exactly like me though. This is too freaky.
"Oh! You didn't expect me to not look like you? Well if I was going to parade around town, I needed to change my look. A lot of people wondered why you dyed your hair, by the way. The media called it a "bad girl phase", whatever that means. So, how come you haven't called that sexy, tattooed, hunk of man yet?" she asked.
Great! She's talking about Arian.
"Of course I'm talking about him! He's sex on a stick, why aren't you boning him right now?" Victoria asked.
"He's an asshole!"
"Yeah, a sexy asshole who gave you his number and you haven't tapped that yet? Allow me," she scoffed.
Victoria walked over to my dresser and pulled out Arian's number. She's not supposed to be able to do that. She's in my head! Why can she touch solid objects? She then grabbed my phone from inside my purse and dialed the number. I attempted to leap out of my bed. Keyword: attempted. It was like an invisible force was holding me down. I couldn't reach Victoria. What the hell is going on with my life?
"Hey, Arian, it's Torrey! Are doing anything later? You aren't! How about I meet you at work? We can hang out or get something to eat. Yeah, I'll see you then." She laughed.
"What did you do?" I exclaimed.
Before Victoria could answer, my father opened the door and looked at me strangely. I'm sure if he overheard…forget it. He thinks I'm nuts!
"Torrey, I've got your medication. I'm standing right here to make sure that you take it," he said.
"Fine." I said tersely.
I got out of bed, keeping my eyes on Victoria. She was dancing around my dad and he didn't even bat an eye. He couldn't see her! How is it possible that she can touch solid objects but can't be seen by anyone else but me?
I stepped in front of my dad and opened my palm to receive the various medications. Tilting my head back I swallowed the meds and grabbed the mug of water that my father was holding. I took several gulps before handing it back to him and getting back into bed.
"You can't stay in bed all day, Torrey. You will get better, as long as you listen to your doctor and take your medication. I just want to see my baby-doll happy again, that's all I ask," he pleaded.
"I know dad, I'll try," I whispered.
"Atta girl! Are you going to go out today?"
"Yeah, the guitar store. I need a new tuner. I broke my old one."
He frowned. "Alright, Jerry will drop you off and pick you up when you're done, okay?"
"Okay."
He kissed my forehead and closed my door. Unfortunately he left me alone with my "twin" and I needed her like I needed the plague. Why was she laughing?
"I'm laughing because you think that your thoughts are safe in your head. They're not! I can hear everything you say. I can even manipulate what you do too. It's why you couldn't move when I called Arian," Victoria explained.
"How are you able to do this?"
She laughed. "Well, it was you who did it. You let me in or out, I guess I should say."
"Excuse me?"
"When you decided to indulge me yesterday in our heart-to-heart, remember? I'm a projection, sweet face! No one but you can see me but when I decide to take over…I like to alter our appearance. I have to make my mark somehow, right?" she smiled knowingly.
I frowned. "I hate you."
"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet!" she laughed.
At Question Authority
"You're seeing a shrink!" Arian yelled.
"Why don't you say it louder? I'm sure the people in London didn't hear you," I whispered.
"Sorry, sorry. Damn, are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah."
He gave me a "bullshit" glare.
"No. I'm not okay. I've got two personality disorders. Yeah, I'm crazy. WooHoo!" I said, laughing.
He knotted his brow. "It's not funny. Are you taking your meds?"
Wow! Arian actually sounded concerned and he wasn't treating me like I was a broken thing that needed to be fixed or a disease. Maybe he isn't such an asshole after all…
"Thanks."
"For what? And you didn't answer my question."
We were hanging out by the authentic juke box near the back of the store. I really didn't want anyone to overhear about my "condition". I'm so embarrassed, no…mortified, that I even told Arian but it felt right to tell him. If I would have told Natalie, she'd treat me like a broken thing.
"Yes, I took my meds this morning. Thank you for not treating me like I'm bound to unleash havoc onto the innocent citizens of southern California."
"You're welcome. So did you stop by to buy something or were you just trying to hit on me?" he asked.
"Jerk! I need a new tuner, get me a Korg tuner please," I asked.
Arian strolled to the back where they kept another set of inventory. Opening my pill bottle I popped my afternoon meds. I turned my phone on to see what time it is. My eyes bulged out. Crap! I'm going to be late for my appointment with Dr. Stephanopoulos. I yelled out for Arian to hurry up. Damn it! I don't have a ride. Jerry would be too far away by now unless…
"Keep your shirt on woman, what's the rush?" Arian asked.
"I'm going to be late for my doctor's appointment!"
He grabbed my arm and ran through the store with me flailing behind him. I'm sure that we must have been a sight to behold. Arian's manager, a blonde haired, blue eyed hunk yelled for us to pay for the tuner and Arian yelled "put it on my tab". Again, that's another nice gesture. He led me to his black Camaro and yelled for me to get in.
"Where's the office?" he asked.
"Bradbury Street. Thanks again by the way."
"Don't mention it."
At Dr. Stephanopoulos' Office
"You're late," she said, smirking.
It wasn't a regular smirk either. It was an I-know-what-you-were-doing type of smirk. And I didn't deserve it. Arian's just a friend, who did me a huge favor by dropping me off at my doctor's office. No sexual intent, I swear. But did he have to give me a territorial hug in front of my dad, Lexi and my shrink? They must think I just had se-
"It's not what it looked like, we're just friends. Shouldn't we be doing that hypnotherapy?" I asked.
"Yes, of course but I'd much rather hear about your "friend". Now, I want to make sure you know about your disorders."
"I'm bat-shit-crazy?"
She shook her head. "No. It is the presence of two or more distinct identities or personality states...that recurrently take control of behavior. The memory loss you experienced is due to the other personality becoming dominant."
"Okay, the narcissistic part?" I asked.
"You react to criticism with anger, exaggerate your own importance, achievements, and talents. You easily become jealous, have lack of empathy and disregard the feelings of others. You're easily hurt and rejected and appear to be unemotional."
"That's not true! I care, a little. No, I care a lot!" I shouted.
"Let's see if we can find out why that is, shall we?" She directed me to the long couch, ignoring my statement.
Uh oh! I better not expose any skeletons in my closet.
"Now lay back and focus on the sound of my voice. Only the sound of my voice…"
This is ridiculous, how am I supposed to be hypnotized? Whatever…
"When I snap my fingers I want you to tell me about your family," she murmured.
"Doc, this isn't going-"
*snap*
And without a filter I talked to her about my dad, my grandfather, Natalie and her father and little brothers. All of the information about them came out with ease but my subconscious held out on a particular family member.
"Torrey, is that all of your family?"
"No."
"Tell me about your grandmother. She was the maternal figure in your life, yes?"
"No, she wasn't…she hates me."
"Why would she hate you? You're her only granddaughter," she said.
I answered back with my painful stories; I was running on an unfiltered hypnosis. No topic would be off limits.
"Last question: think of a person who gives you great despair to this day. Tell me their name."
"Cricket Taylor."
"Alright, now I'm going to snap my fingers one more time. When I do, I want you to wake up from your trance."
*snap*
I blinked.
"See, doc! I told you it wouldn't work,"
"Cricket Taylor," she said seriously.
I flinched. "So it worked."
"I have to report your grandmother."
I shook my head. "It will do you no good. It's my word against hers and I'm not exactly a reliable witness. Besides, Lexi would bail her out and tell my dad's lawyer to smooth it over with the district attorney."
"I'd make it stick, sweetheart."
"She wouldn't spend more than hour in a holding cell. Look, she's not even at the house most of the time and my grandparents have their own house near our property. I barely see her, only for holidays or birthdays." I sighed.
"I still need to-"
"She knows better than to try that now, okay? She knows I would break her face in half."
"I'm still reporting it," Dr. Stephanopoulos said firmly.
"Yeah, I know."
I lay back on the couch waiting for the Lexi and my dad to yell their heads off at me for accusing my grandmother. Honestly, my doctor is right. I see no problem with being unemotional.
